


Tuesday

by operationmycroft



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Mycroft, Gen, Murder, Mycroft IS the British Government, Mycroft's life, Mycroft-centric, assassinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1864617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operationmycroft/pseuds/operationmycroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an assassination attempt on one government official. Mycroft surprises both Sherlock and John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> There was a post on tumblr that reminded me that this should happen in canon

Mycroft Holmes rarely dealt in matter so _sticky_ as murder. Although, on rare occasions worse would come to worse and he would have to neutralize a threat himself. For these instances he had the umbrella. It had a hidden blade of sorts, of course it was all legal and approved by people who mattered (in most cases this meant the elder Holmes and this was no different) it was also not made of metal, so as to be as useful as possible.

On a tuesday (after a rather unproductive meeting with his brother) that was quite unremarkable other than the fact that today some imbecile thought it was a good idea to assassinate a particular member of the government (a traffic official officially but so much more than that in reality). His cover was maintained for convenience sake and for the ability to claim a truely minor position. It was chosen for its safety, since no real decisions were ever made it that branch of government it was unlikely that anyone would hold a personal vendetta against anyone there. On this tuesday, someone did. Mycroft was leaving 221b when a haggard man whom to the untrained eye looked homeless, stepped up quickly and asked if the suited man had any spare change.

His deductions were quick and to the point.

1\. This man is not homeless

2\. He is holding a knife under his coat [Threat]

3\. He is mentally unstable

4\. He has just lost a lover [Revenge]

 

Mycroft wouldn’t have been able to tell you how he gained this information, his and Sherlock’s minds worked quite differently. The elder didn’t believe it was useful as to how you got to information only that it was correct and useful. Finding the pathways between proof and fact and saying them out loud took much too long.

The exchange looked normal from the outside, Mycroft however read the man’s more sinister intentions and managed to get away from his initial attack, which would have lodged a knife into his left lung if unmoved. The red haired man twisted the handle of his umbrella and was left with a ceramic rapier (Baskerville had been doing some testing and Mycroft had stepped in). The second attack would be a lunge diagonally, going for a less fatal blow for something faster. (Obviously the man was out of his mind) Mycroft simply held the rapier out and watched with detached interest as the man impaled himself on the thin blade. His blood seeped through the layers of clothing that only served as a weak disguise. The man fell forward his head coming to rest on Mycroft’s shoulder in a moment of macabre embrace. Mycroft let out a small sigh, as if mildly irritated that his PA had chosen the wrong tea. The man slipped down and off the government official's shoulder coming to rest in a growing pool of his own blood.

“Oh my…” Mycroft looked down. “It seems as if you have ruined my suit.” A small blotch of the other man’s blood had flecked his waistcoat and suit jacket. “I rather liked this one.” He stepped carefully around the body and blood it had dirtied the pavement with. Why was nothing clean and organized to his liking? He dropped his weapon, his security detail would clean everything up, right now his trusted umbrella was quite unsanitary. He could see them now running out of the street, breaking character. A black car pulled up and a door was opened, “Are you well, sir?” He didn’t bother answering the inane question. He turned looking back at 221b’s window. There standing, and looking down at the body eyebrows raised was Sherlock, with his hand halfway through an A sharp, and John who just stared in shock. Sherlock turned away, while John stood frozen near the window. Mycroft realized then that he should probably be having a reaction as a _plebeian_  would. He didn’t even feel the adrenalin rush. He mentally shrugged and smiled at John whose attention had been switched from the body to the killer. John was considerably more cooperative of his requests after that, perhaps he had believed Sherlock's classification of him to be an exaggeration. Mycroft turned, got into his car and requested to be taken back to his office to change. There was a meeting scheduled 28 minutes from now that he _wouldn’t_ be late to.

 

 


End file.
